Reflections
by Sara V Eadburg
Summary: It's Blaine's junior year at McKinley, but things don't go as smoothly as planned as old acquaintances and unaccepting parents start to slowly tear his life apart.
1. Chapter 1

**So I've decided to embark on a multi chapter blangst fic. I hope you enjoy it and I hope the inane amount of blangst I've managed to pack into only a few chapters doesn't make it too unrealistic . It contains Warblers and Cooper, New Directions and Blaine's parents and also dives into Blaine's past. Basically I've tried to include everything I've ever wanted into one fic, so again, apologies if it's really bad. **

**Still homeless, so still don't own anything.**

* * *

'"_Do you know what they call themselves, all these people?"_

_Alyss shook her head. How could she know?_

"_Alyssians." Bibwit spelled it out._

_Her heart gave a jump. Alyssians? No, they ask too much of me. _

"_I don't think I'm ready for all this," she said'_

_-_Frank Beddor, The Looking Glass Wars

_21__st__ October._

_1.35. The boys bathroom. _

The ice cold liquid sent Blaine Anderson gasping for air as he rinsed his face for the fifth time that minute. Gripping the edge of the sink he glanced up at his reflection, ignoring the fact his jumper was slowly darkening due to the steady drips of water from his chin. Nope. Still ghostly white.

"Stop shaking." he muttered quietly, hoping the command, if spoken aloud, would shock his body into actually obeying his head, but to no avail. His hands still shock and his knuckles were surprising close to the colour of the porcelain he was leaning on. He didn't even dare to look up at his face again. He took a deep breath, sucking in harshly and spluttering. He needed to calm down. Breath. Count to ten.

"Blaine?" He wiped round suddenly, too fast, stumbling forward and only just regaining his balance by grabbing the sink once more. Kurt. Of course.

"Hi." He inwardly cursed. Hi? Just make yourself sound pathetic Blaine, that's right. It's not as if your current appearance doesn't convey that enough.

"Blaine?" Kurt repeated his name, cautiously this time, and as a question, almost daring him to deny that he wasn't ok.

"I'm fine." He smiled, more in spite of himself then to reassure his boyfriend, and turned round to dry his hands on the rough paper towels. Red. That was an odd colour for paper towels. Usually they were light blue or that weird shade of green…

"Blaine you're lying to me." Kurt was talking again. Actually he was treating Blaine like a naughty five year old. That made him a bit annoyed. Angry actually.

Angry? Was he? He wasn't entirely sure.

"These paper towels are an odd colour, don't you think?" Kurt looked extremely confused for a second before realising exactly what Blaine was doing (what was he doing again?), a dark shadow flitting across his eyes as his forehead crinkled in frustration.

"Blaine!" There it was. His name again, and in that tone.

"We should really get back to Glee club, they're probably wondering where we've got to." He didn't really know why he was ignoring Kurt but the only thing that seemed to be keeping him grounded at the minute was the effort of ignoring everything that came out of his boyfriends mouth. He strolled towards the door throwing the screwed up paper towel at the bin. It missed.

"BLAINE!" Kurt shouted this time, the last 'e' echoing slighting across the titled walls. For a minute it made Blaine freeze, fists clenched unnaturally at his sides, but then an unknown force seemed to suddenly carry his legs as fast as he could out the boys bathroom and down the now deserted hallway to the choir room. He entered with a loud bang, the scuffle the door made alerting every person to his presence, and causing them to look oddly in his direction.

"Blaine?" That was Mr Schuster. What was it with people just repeating his name today?

"Blaine, are you ok?" Quinn this time. Her eyes were soft and caring and made him pause for a second. But the urge to tell all quickly disappeared as he noted the looks of the other members. Instead he smiled cheerfully, straightened his back and cleared his throat. Dapper, Blaine. Compose yourself.

"Fine. Great!" He added another smile hoping his acting would fool them, that they'll just leave him alone to process the past hour but their gaze's were still fixated on him as he made his way to his seat, and they didn't look convinced.

It was Kurt's entrance that finally managed to break their stares. His face conveyed his anger clearly but as he zoned in on Blaine's frozen smile he didn't say anything, instead narrowing his eyes and striding swiftly to the only seat available next to his boyfriend.

"I don't know what you're doing Anderson," he hissed harshly, simultaneously dropping his bag at his feet where it slowly toppled onto it side, "but trust me when I say we're going to talk about this later!" His supposed attempts at being quiet were not entirely successful as Finn and Rachel slowly turned to each other and raised their eyebrows, silent conversations bubbling in the air between them.

Blaine ignored them. Ignored Kurt, even though he could still feel his cold glare burning the left side of his cheek, and stared straight ahead, slowly letting his smile drop to what he hoped was a look of content and not panic. Ah. That was what that emotion was.

One thing he knew. If Kurt thought there was going to be a discussion about this later today he could think again.

* * *

The front door slammed shut, the frosted glass rattling in its mahogany case. Blaine threw his shoes off, grabbing the banister roughly as he hoisted himself up. He was tired. More tired than he had been in years. Even with finals at Dalton, even with Warbler practice on top of volunteering. Even when he had come home every day to arguments with his dad, he had never felt as exhausted as he did on this cold Monday afternoon.

"Blaine? Honey?" He sighed as his moms voice tinkled softly across the hall. He considered ignoring her, but decided against it. He knew that tone. The classic 'we need to talk to you and its not really my idea but I want to please your dad so I'm really sorry for what I'm about to say' voice. Yep, his father was most probably the one behind whatever today's conversation was about.

When he entered the living room both parents were sitting uncomfortably on the large red sofa that was positioned perfectly in the corner of the cream coloured room. He hated that. How his house looked so much like a shop showroom.

"How was school, son?" His father didn't look up . Blaine shifted self consciously, rubbing his bare feet against the carpet, drawing light patterns where it darkened when he stroked against the grain.

"Fine. Good." He didn't smile. He didn't need to. His parent wouldn't question him.

"Good. Your club go OK?" Blaine looked at him oddly, this was starting to freak him out.

"Erm, yeah, I guess, I got to sing a solo."

"That's great. Blaine, me and your mum have been talking and we think that this whole… situation is getting a bit out of hand." Blaine frowned, his hands clenching automatically.

"What?" He wasn't expecting this, whatever it was.

"We believe…" His father was stalling, talking slowly.

"Blaine we love you."

"Right?" The sudden change in direction made him uncomfortable. He knew they loved him. Maybe not as much as they could, but through everything they had been fairly good, better then he had been expecting. They had a distant relationship, but there was love in there. Detached love, but still love and he'll take whatever he got.

"And, well, we just want the best for you."

"I don't understand." He was really confused now, the tips of his fingers twitching slightly as he tried to control the nerves.

"We know you transferred from Dalton because of that boy."

"Kurt. But it was nothing to do with-"

"Let me finish." Blaine folded his arms and took a step back.

"Sorry."

"That's fine. We've always let this, well, this whole-" And suddenly Blaine realised the gist of the conversation, the dark corner into which it was heading. Again. Anger bubbled to the surface.

"Fag phase?" he spat bitterly, knowing he was overreacting, being stupid, because his father had never uttered those words in his life. But he just couldn't deal with this today. Not again, not when he thought this had all been cleared up.

"Blaine Anderson!" His father was standing now. Brow furrowed in what Blaine thought was anger, apart from his eyes didn't match the rest of his face.

"We do not use words like that in this house!"

"Ok. Sorry. Sorry, fine." He fell backwards onto the chair behind him. He really was tired. His dad remained on his feet, glancing at his wife quickly before continuing, a little less enthusiastically then before.

"Blaine…" He started again with a sigh. "This entire thing… you've transferred from a school you begged us for months to go to, that we spent thousands of pounds on, Your grades have started slipping, we hardly see you because you're on dates or having dinner at this… Kurt's house. We really hoped this would pass, Blaine, but recently… This has been going on far too long and we realise that's because we didn't stop it sooner. A good friend of mine knows someone who runs a counselling centre for people a bit like you, in the same situation and…" His father paused once more, seemingly unsure at his words. Blaine's heart quickened.

"You're saying-"

"We want you to go to counselling." Blaine jerked his head up, eyes wide.

"I'm fine. Sadie Hawkins was ages ago. I-"

"Starting Wednesday."

"I don't need to, dad. I'm over it, honestly. I'm fine." He was starting to panic. This couldn't be happening.

"It's at four so you might be a bit pushed for time with that club you attend."

"Dad?"

"But I'm sure we can work something out."

"Dad, I promise. I promise I'm fine. I even went to Kurt's prom, it was great, we danced, you remember?"

"It's an hour long session, so we'll still be at work but we'll get Cooper to pick you up."

"Dad! Dad you're not listening to me." His voice was high and squeaky. ""I don't need counselling, I…" His eyes flittered widely from one parent to another. His mom hadn't moved, her face contorted in an odd expression. He shifted forwards in his seat, sat straighter, trying to get her attention.

"Mom? Mom, what's going on? You know I don't need this. Mom?"

"Sexuality counselling honey." Her soft voice shot through the air like a bullet, hitting him forcefully in the chest and causing him to gasp softly. It shot straight though his back and continued, not deterred by the chair he was frozen in. It didn't slow, for anything, instead taking the piece it had broken from his heart away with it. Further and further and further and further away. He watched with glazed eyes as his mom slowly stood up, not looking at him, and disappeared into the kitchen, her hair whishing softly against the back of her slightly crumpled cardigan. He slumped backwards into the plush leather, glancing at his dad who was still frozen near the coffee table, staring at him with an odd expression, uncomfortably fiddling with his navy tie.

"Coopers back in town?" Blaine's voice was quiet, small. He had only just comprehended that part of the conversation.

"Yeah." His father moved closer, but stopped, unsure of how to react at his son's defeated position. "He's really looking forward to seeing you."

Blaine didn't answer, instead turning his faze to the blurring framed photograph above the mantelpiece. The one with his mother and father and Cooper, all smiling happily. The one that had been taken when Blaine had been too ill to attend. Measles, chicken pox, he couldn't quite remember. The one they hadn't bothered to replace, despite numerous re-shoots.

And who would anyway? The lighting captured everyone very well, the relaxed expression that emanated joy on their faces seemingly genuine. It was a lovely photograph. He screwed his eyes tight, trying to stop the imminent tears.

The perfect photograph. The perfect family.


	2. Chapter 2

**This ones a little weird, and I hope not too difficult to understand. I also have come to the realisation I have a bit of an obsession with italics. To me it makes the words seem a bit more colourful and gives me some freedom to express things as if it was a stage production or something (that sentence made me sound like a dick, but you know what I mean), but if you just think it's stupid and irritating then apologies. Anyway, enough of this, here, Chapter 2.**

**Ps- Axl170, in response to your comment, I understand, if I read that on its own I would be extremely disappointed with the lack of blangst. What I meant was that I've written most of it bar the last chapter so, yeah, the blangst escalated quite a bit, especially if you write it. Well, by my standards at least. I hope you enjoy this one a bit more. Thanks for reviewing! :)****  
**

* * *

Blaine flicked open a chemistry textbook, sighing as he stared at the pages of words he was meant to understand by that afternoon. His parents were right, he really was behind. His once perfect 4.0 was slowly creeping down and if he wasn't careful he'll be getting B's and C's and then he really would be 'in for it'. Taking another sip of water he tried to concentrate but the light flickered oddly in his eyes making him squint in discomfort. And did people here at McKinley understand the purpose of a library? Everything was so loud. Thoughts buzzed round and round his brain.

'Sexuality counselling honey'

'Coopers back in town.'

'We know it's our fault'

'Shouldn't have let it get this far.'

'_I used to know someone with that name.'_

He snapped his textbook shut with a bang.

'_I used to know someone with that name.' _

He grabbed his bag roughly, fumbling for the handle as he shoved everything from the table into it with one swoop of his arm.

His palms were clammy, his head clouding up. He needed to get outside, needed to breathe. The bell signifying the end of lunch rang shrilly through the school. Free periods; thank god. Oh, but…

'Fuck.' he hissed, as he realised he had promised to meet Mr Shue, Kurt and some of the others in the auditorium. To practice some last minute choreography for regional's or something, he wasn't really sure. Turning on his heel he made his way back down the hall.

"_I used to know someone with that name.' _

His shoes squeaked noisily against the polished titles, the obnoxious noise only stopping when he reached the worn carpet of the auditorium. Red. Why was everything in this school that colour?

'_I used to know someone with that name.'_

'Hey!' Kurt's joyful voice zigzagged across the room. 'Come on over here, quickly!' He waved a few times urging Blaine to hurry, his hard soled shoes casing light echoes to bounce across the room as he rushed down the side steps.

"You're just in time. Andrew here's just about to audition." Mr Schue smiled as a fair haired boy shifted somewhat nervously on the stage.

Blaine stopped.

Andrew?

"_I used to know someone with that name.'_

'Hey Eric.' The boy smiled down at him, voice drawling out much more confidently than he initially seemed, blonde curls flicking lightly out his eyes as he twitched his head to the side. Blaine stood frozen, unable to reply.

'Eric?' questioned Kurt, looking between the pair in confusion. 'No, that's Blaine.' Blaine still didn't move, his entire body seemed to be screaming at him, to run, get out of there, but he couldn't draw himself away from the boys piercing eyes. He watched as Andrew glanced at Kurt, brow furrowing for a moment.

"Yeah, Blaine. Blaine Anderson.'

Shut up, Tina. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

Understanding seemingly hit the young boy, a soft smile playing at the corner of his lips. Blaine had forgotten how much he loathed that smile.

'My mistake.' He voice was painfully smooth. 'New kid, you know. Can't quite remember everyone's name. I'm so sorry _Blaine_.' There was an emphasis on that word, Blaine was sure of it. Something underlying that he couldn't pinpoint but that made him feel sick. Extremely sick.

'Shall I sing?' Andrew turned back to Mr Schue, stretching his arms out as if preparing for a marathon rather than an audition. The harsh lights overhead flicked across his face as they were adjusted, but rather than making him look odd and slightly distorted as it did for most he looked even more attractive. Well, just the sheen on his hair made Blaine nauseous, but he suppose that was how most people would see him.

'Hey, Kurt.' he whispered, but the boy didn't answer, his gaze fixated on the boy currently warming up on the stage. 'Kurt?' Blaine said again, louder this time, but to no avail. 'Kurt!; Maybe he was speaking quieter than he thought he was. Maybe Kurt was playing with him, purposely ignoring him to wind him up. Or… maybe he was just so mesmerised by the _wonderful, beautiful _Andrew that Blaine was no longer visible. That was how it had always been, right?

'_I used to know someone with that name.' _

The piano built to a crescendo, Andrew's high notes splintering the roof, swirling round the room, round Tina and Mr Schue and Kurt, making them gawp in awe and admiration, swirling round Blaine, rippling through his hair, stabbing at his face. He suddenly found himself sprinting out the auditorium, bashing his way through the fire doors, feeling the cold winter air hitting him harshly on the face, making his eyes water. He gasped, gulping in oxygen, stumbling his way to a worn down picnic bench and, ignoring the slight dampness of the seats, sank into it, burying his face in his hands, pressing down hard on his eyes with his palms as he tried to settle his thoughts.

'_I used to know someone with that name.'_

'_I used to know someone with that name.'_

'_I USED TO KNOW SOMEONE WITH THAT NAME.'_

…

_Yesterday._

_1.15. Glee Club._

'I'm just going to go to the bathroom, be back in a second guys.' No-one really acknowledged him but Kurt smiled and Mr Schue gave him a small nod which Blaine took as a go ahead so he swiftly left the room. The scattered rehearsal laughter became quieter and quieter as he walked down the empty halls.

Slowly entering the toilet and walking over to the mirror he started blankly at his reflection, absent mindedly patting any stray hairs back into place. It was odd, how he was feeling. His transfer being so new meant he was constantly surrounded by the glee club kids, trying to get to know him, trying to prise all of the Warblers secrets out of him, and yet, he still felt a bit lonely. Like they didn't really like him, just put up with him, heck, even pretended because of Kurt. And then there were the jocks… his past experiences still left him with random flares of panic that sometimes decided to make themselves known. He knew he was being stupid, the building tension that had been stacking up for the past few weeks totally irrational. He wasn't going to be bullied, he wasn't still fourteen for gods sake. And McKinley was, well, people here either slushied, pushed you, or just completely ignored you… and Blaine was getting most of the latter which he knew he should be happy about. It's… just once he had had a taste of Dalton, and what acceptance could feel like it was a hard to change, to try and adapt so fast. He had at first thought he just missed the limelight, all the attention he got, but he soon realised it was more the friendship and safety he missed. It was the content feeling he had about school. The lack of fear.

His thoughts were interrupted as the loud squeak of the door reminded him he was in a public bathroom. Pretending to run his hands under the tap he didn't look up. Most of the kids at this school knew he was dating Kurt, knew he was gay. He really didn't want, nay, really couldn't be bothered, with any trouble today. Especially if it came from an uneducated, ignorant football jock.

"Hey, excuse me?"

Here it comes. _Just get it over and done with. Call me a fag and tell me I'm in the wrong bathroom, just do it quickly. I really haven't got the patience for you today. _

Blaine, however, did not say any of the things that were dripping through his mind, instead his upbringing kicked into play, and walking over to the other side of the room to reach for a paper towel he politely answered.

"Yes, can I help you with anything?" he didn't look up, intentionally not making eye contact.

"Er, yeah, sorry. This sounds a bit weird but I'm running really late and need some help trying to find my next class. You were kind of the only person I could see so I followed you in here and, er, well, do you know where history six is?"

Blaine stood frozen, halfway through drying his right hand. That accent. That polite tone of voice. He glanced up at the boy now standing about three feet away from him, hand clasped to satchel, a confused look etched upon his face. His hair was blonde and whispy, his nose dusted in freckles and those eyes. Blue and piercing.

"Are you OK?" The boy edged closer to him, the confusion turning to worry. Blaine snapped to his senses. Of course he didn't recognise him. It had been years ago. Memories were fickle things after all. What he needed now was to concentrate on getting through this conversation normally. Tell him what he needed to know and get out of there before he had what felt like was going to be a panic attack, if the dread he was currently feeling was anything to go by.

"Er, yeah, sorry, I'm fine. Across the corridor, three doors down." Blaine smiled weakly as the boy uttered his thanks and turned to leave the room, however he paused, his hand on the door knob.

'Sorry, I didn't catch your name.'

'Eric. Anderson. Eric Anderson.'

_Shit. _Why did he just do that? You couldn't come up with anything better Blaine? Well done. Shit. You moron.

'Oh, well hi , Eric. It was nice meeting you, thanks for the help.' Blaine let out another sigh of relief, he had to relax, it was a long time ago, no-one remembered anything…

The boy was about to leave again before giving him another confused look. 'You don't have a brother or anything, do you?' Blaine could feel his nails suddenly dig into his palms.

'What? Er, no. No I'm an only child.' His vision was going a bit cloudy. No. Keep it together. 'Why?' The last question was at least two octaves higher than his normal voice. Andrew, however, looked nonplussed, a slight frown appearing across his face, seemingly trying to place the name.

'It's just…' Then the light bulb went off. 'I used to know someone with that name. Anderson, I mean.' He fully turned to face Blaine, studying his features with more care. It was all Blaine could do not to stutter, a nervous laugh escaped him before he could stop it.

'No, erm, I mean, it must just be a popular surname.' The fair haired boy started at him a moment longer before turning for a final time towards the exit.

'Yeah, anyway, thanks again, Eric. See you around.' The door slammed shut behind him.

Andrew Jackson. Blaine was finding it hard to breathe. _Andrew Jackson had just walked into McKingly high's bathroom. _His eyes were welling up. _Andrew Jackson had just had a conversation with him_. Why was he crying? _Andrew Jackson hadn't recognised him. _There was nothing to cry about. _But he almost had. _A chocked sob escaped him. Get a grip Blaine. It's nothing, not a big deal, you're sixteen, you can handle these things.

Apart from it was a big deal. And he couldn't handle it. Not when the deal was his former tormentor and the thing he had to handle was being constantly bullied and finally beaten up at a Sadie Hawkins dance. Not when the deal was at McKinley and the thing he had to handle was his past coming back to haunt him.

Not when it involved Andrew Jackson.

Andrew Jackson he couldn't deal with.

Andrew Jackson he couldn't handle.

Andrew Jackson…

_Andrew Jackson. _


	3. Chapter 3

**There's quite a long flashback in this scene, (all in italics- YAY!) along with some Klaine fights, so I'm sorry… heck, actually, if it causes blangst you love it, so no, I'm not (ok maybe a little bit). Oh and just for clarity (due to a lovely reviewer pointing it out) I can 100% assure you Blaine's former bully is in no way the former American president.** **I should really have googled that name before I used it. Hey, I'm only halfway through my American civilization book, let me off on this one. ;-) **

**Chapter 3 my dearies.**

* * *

"Oh my god but did you see his eyes!"

"Kurt…" Blaine stopped halfway down the corridor. Adjusting his bag and facing his excited boyfriend , stopping him from walking any further. Kurt seemed nonplussed, his cheeks still flushed with a light pink tinge.

"Did you see them?" he squealed, rocking slightly on the balls of his feet. They were so blue and god his hair. Real sexy right? Even his name. _Andrew Jackson_, like a movie star or something." Blaine sighed and turned away again. "And his voice…You'd have thought he was an angel or-"

"Can we not talk about him, Kurt. Please?" It was Kurt's turn to stop and turn towards Blaine.

"Why? What's wrong with him?"

"I just… when you're with someone you're not meant to talk about other people like that.' Kurt narrowed his eyes.

"What?" The death tone. It wasn't a question that wanted to be answered.

"I…" But Blaine wasn't able to finish.

"We always talk like this. You know I'm not being serious." Kurt's eyes were still focused in with determined precision, as if trying to extract the right answer from him. Blaine sighed once more.

"Yeah, I just, there's something about him that makes me feel uneasy."

"Is that why you ran out of his audition like an idiot yesterday?" Blaine winced at Kurt's words. OK, so he had really hit a nerve with the whole 'don't look at other boys' thing.

"Kurt, I…" He glanced up. "I don't know. Just please stay away from him." Kurt stared at him blankly for a few seconds before lifting his hands in exasperation.

"_Stay away from him_? He hasn't done anything for Christ sake. You've been acting weird for days now, Blaine, and it's getting really tiring. Honestly? I think you're just jealous." Blaine scoffed.

"I'm _sorry_?" Kurt carried on talking.

"You're jealous because he was better than you in his audition. Because everyone loved him so much this morning in glee club. You're getting worried because all your precious duets with Rachel and Katy Perry solos might be taken away from you." Blaine could feel the anger bubbling up at Kurt's smug expression. It was wrapping itself round his stomach, tightened it's hold at every word.

"Fuck you." It came out before he could stop it. He stood stock still for a second as the sentence hung cautiously in the air, suspended in time. When had their conversation got so out of control? When had they started arguing and biting each other's heads off? The string broke and the words crashed down onto them, pooling a little around their feet. Kurt's eyes widened in shock, hurt replacing the anger as quickly as it had arrived. Blaine made a small noise halfway between a whine and a gasp before pivoting on the spot and rushing down the corridor as fast as he could, not daring to look back at where Kurt was still standing, staring after him with an odd expression on his face. Why did he have to mess everything up? _No. _he flung a classroom door open as lurched his body inside. Why did _Andrew Jackson _have to mess everything up.

He angrily stomped to find a seat, ignoring everything but the imminent headache he could feel pressing on the inside of his skull.

"Hi Blaine." Blaine snapped his head up faster then he'd ever done before. Oh god, no. He started backing out the classroom, reaching for the door, but Andrew shook his head. Scraping back his chair and almost tripping over a map of Asia as he lunged to get to it before him. Out of all the classrooms, out of all the possible moments, why did it have to be this one?

"Hey, hey, hey." He said slyly, leaning casually against the door as he twisted the blinds shut in one smooth movement. "What's the rush? I just wanna chat Blainey. Nothing like catching up with old friends, right?" Blaine didn't answer, taking a few steps back as he tried to put as much floor space between him and the boy in front of him as possible. His breathing was ragged again. Andrew shifted his position, folding his arms confidently across his chest.

"Heard you got into a bit of an argument with your boyfriend? Was it because of you running out of my audition? Because that was really rude of you. Didn't you want to hear me sing?" Blaine opened his mouth slightly, trying to answer but nothing came out. This was too much to process. The argument, the still looming prospect of his 'counselling'. He just wanted to go home. Lock himself in his bedroom and never come out,

"You're not joining Glee club." It was slurred, the words joining themselves together in a state of half frenzy.

"Oh. Finally found your voice I see." Andrew pushed off the door and slowly sauntered towards the small curly haired boy. Blaine could feel his heart rate quickening, but he stood his ground. He was nearly an adult, this was not going to happen again. He wouldn't let it. "Well Blainey, thing is…" Andrew leant into his ear, voice low and growly. It made Blaine flinch away instinctively. "I think I can do what the hell I want, don't you?" Blaine didn't know what to say. His mind was processing everything ten times slower than usual. He could feel the familiar tug of old memories pulling at the strings of his brain. He momentarily closed his eyes, trying to suppress them. "Oh, tut tut. Back to the silent treatment I see." Andrew stepped away, his hot breath no longer tickling the back of Blaine's neck. "You're not being very nice Blainey. But then again you not cooperating with us always made everything so much more _fun._" He chuckled darkly. "You know I think we might need to schedule another meeting, so we can catch up properly." He turned back to his backpack, picking it up and walking towards the door. "Catch you later babe." He flashed Blaine a smile as he sauntered out the room, leaving an icy trail and a small curly haired boy standing extremely still in the centre of the room behind him.

Blaine collapsed into the nearest chair, staring at the whiteboard filled with facts about the 1st World War; a lesson obviously abandoned to be picked up after break. He pinched the bridge of his nose tightly, squeezing his eyes shut and took a calming breath. He wasn't sure if he had just imagined the past few minutes or if in some realised nightmare state they had just come true, but in whichever situation he suddenly felt extremely sick. His mind started to blank out once more, the ice cold air growing steadily throughout the room as it engulfed everything in it's path, leaving only a thick white frozen fog…

"_Hey guys look, it's the fairy. Come to turn us all into girls Anderson?" A fourteen year old Blaine ducked his head, staring down at his hurriedly laced up trainers as he stood by his open locker. _

"_Hi, Andrew. Had a good winter break?" The young Blaine placed a few books into his bag, struggling with the clasp for a second. Andrew took the opportunity to look at his friends in mock disbelief. _

"_I'm sorry, guys? I think I'm hearing things. Did the fag actually have the nerve to open his mouth and spread his disgusting germs all over us?" The pair next to the blonde chuckled, stepping an inch closer to the curly haired boy in front of them._

"_Just leave me alone Andrew. Please?" Blaine slammed his locker shut and glanced nervously at the trio._

"_Please?" Andrew cruelly mocked the pleas of his fellow student, causing him to redden slightly. "Awh, little baby's begging. How about we make ickle darling plead some more?" Blaine shook his head slightly, turning to run down the nearly deserted corridor. All he had to do was get to the next hallway, get to his biology class and he'd be fine. A hand grabbed at the back of his shirt as one of the jocks tried to hold him back but his fingertips barely brushed the fabric, allowing him to get away. Andrew's cruel laughter echoed down the corridor. _

"_We'll get you next time Blainey, just you wait. You aren't getting away that easily."_

* * *

_The locker room was deserted. _

_CRASH. Blaine found himself being slammed painfully against a hard metal door, the side of his face slightly grazing the grating. _

"_Hey babe."_

"_Andrew, wha…" But the sentence was cut off by another hard slam of his shoulders. He whimpered slightly, not knowing what to expect with this sudden turn to physical violence. He had only ever experienced insults before, and a few threats but this… actually hurting him? This was new. _

"_I suggest you keep your mouth shut and just let us get on with it fag." That was Jarred. Andrews main henchman, or 'best friend'. _

"_Aren't you going to beg us to stop again Blainey? It was so fucking cute last time." Andrew stepped back from where the two older boys held Blaine up by his forearms, his feet barley touching the floor, toes wiggling desperately for some hold on flat ground again._

"_Let go of me!" He almost shouted, intending for it to be a threat but it had come out much more squeaky. Andrew laughed once more. _

"_Oh deary me that wasn't very polite. What's that magic word? You can't have forgotten it already!" Blaine stared at him as coldly as he could he manage, not trusting his voice to reply with anything that wasn't pathetic._

"_Well it looks like we're going to have to coax it out of…" Blaine's loud groan muffled the rest of the sentence. His eyes were watering in pain at the punch Andrew had just administrated to his stomach._

"_Andrew…" he whispered, flinching back as the blonde prepared himself to hit him once more._

"_Hey!" The distant shout of the football coach echoed into the room, causing the boys to let go of Blaine suddenly, hastily backing away as he crumpled to the floor. "I don't know what you boys are playing at but you know very well you're not meant to be in here after-" she stopped suddenly at the sight of the small curly haired boy folded in on himself at the foot of one of the lockers surrounded by three larger boys who looked suspiciously uncomfortable. "What's going on here. Anderson? Are you okay?" She walked over to him and knelt down, trying to discern whether he was overreacting or genuinely hurt. _

"_M' fine." Blaine mumbled, trying to smile at her but hissing in pain as he tried to lift his head. "Just banged my head." She looked him over once before slowly hoisting him up by his armpits and lifting him carefully onto his feet._

"_OK, well we'll get you to the nurse, check your head. Are you sure these boys weren't giving you any trouble?" Blaine glanced over to where Andrew stood, silently giving him the most vengeance filled stare he think he'd ever received. _

"_I…" Blaine wasn't sure what to do, his tongue seemingly tied. Glancing back to the coaches face he stared blankly into her eyes for a few seconds. "I… yeah." The confidence to say it had come from somewhere but as quickly as it had come it was gone. The look on Andrews face causing him to wither slightly under the gaze. "I mean, yeah they were pushing me around but it was like play fighting and um, just got a bit… a bit, um, out of control." He tried to laugh but it came out oddly. No-one looked convinced at his words. The boys tense, Andrew angry and the coach still hadn't said anything, her gaze never leaving his face. She looked like she didn't believe him but she let it go quickly, clearly thinking it was just children's squabbling. _

"_OK then, but make sure you get yourself to the Nurse." She walked away, clearly forgetting she had promised to take him, Blaine stared after her in despair, his eyes widening as grins formed on his tormenters faces as they watched her leave. _

"_That was close, wasn't it Blainey." Andrew whispered, reaching over to grip Blaine's arm as he swayed slightly, still a bit dizzy from where he had knocked his head,_

"_Hey!" It was a fraught call, his body was going into panic mode and his brain told him to do something, and quickly, or things weren't going to go well. The coach turned around. "Can I ask you something, it's about football." And he hurried away, ripping his arm out of Andrews shock-slackened grasp, ignoring the coaches confused look as he babbled away nonsensically._

_He had got away, and that was all he cared about._

* * *

"_Fag." The fourteen year old closed his eyes as his knees slammed into the ground, his lunch tray skidding across the floor as he was tripped up for what was at least the 3__rd__ time that week. It was becoming a regular occurrence, these public humiliations, and he had taken to sitting outside, his stomach rumbling loudly, just so he could avoid the plainly obvious cheers and claps of his fellow students. That was the worst part, he decided. Not the missed lunch, because he ate when he got home and had recently taken to packing some fruit, but the fact that the whole school hated him so much that they were actually happy when he got hurt. _

_Was he really that irritating? That horrible? Disgusting? That they asked for more when he was already almost in tears on the ground, his knees or his elbow throbbing, his lunch scattered everywhere, strings of spaghetti mixed up with pieces of his dignity._

_He must be. Because no-one would do that to someone good. No-one. He deserved it. Every last thing he had coming to him. He brought his knees up to his chest, shivering slightly at the cold winter breeze that nipped at his bare forearms. Yes. He needed to grin and bear it, take it like a man, let them do what they needed to hopefully change him into something better. He felt tears welling up in his eyes, his heart beating painfully inn his chest, that tight physical ache of sadness in his belly. At least for now he could try not to cry in peace. _

"_Give me five more minutes." He muttered quietly to himself. "Five more minutes and then I' don't mind what happens. I…" He trailed off as a tear rolled down his cheek, stinging as it mixed with the cold air. He tried to fight it, wipe it away hastily, but instead resorted to burying his face in his arms, his shoulders shaking in time to the whistling of the wind through the dying leaves on the trees._

The sudden chatter of students bought Blaine to reality, his palms sticking with sweat to the chair he had been gripping tightly onto.

"Are you OK, dear?" The teacher entered followed by a gaggle of sophomores, their voices hushing as they viewed the pale boy in front of them. Blaine glanced wildly round, slowly taking in his surroundings.

"Yes, sorry. I'm just leaving, err…" He fumbled with his bag for a while, struggling with the strap as he tried to balance it on his shoulder. His feet didn't seem to be working and he stumbled into a young girl with pigtails as he tripped over the map Andrew had nearly lost his footing on earlier. "Sorry." he mumbled before rushing out the classroom, not realising he'd left his calculus textbook lying dejectedly near the desk he'd been sitting at.


	4. Chapter 4

**Ok, so please share my joy in the origin of Mrs Frobisher's last name, because even if everything else I ever write is absolute shit I will always be proud of this moment and it will make up for it. Yeah, so anyway;**

**Chapter Four- Voila.**

**Ps- This chapter is a little clumsy in places, I'm very sorry.**

* * *

'Please leave a message after the tone."

"Kurt I'm so sorry. I really am. I don't know what came over me, I just…" Blaine took a deep breath. " I'm sorry. I didn't mean it and just a lot's going on with my parents and stuff and I'm sorry. Please can we talk, meet up for coffee or something, I'm sorry." If he wasn't in such a fluster about Andrew and full of nerves about his brother coming home along with the counselling session he had booked for that night, he would have tried to stop himself from sounding so pathetic, but at present he honestly couldn't care less. Everything seemed to be crashing down upon him and he couldn't seem to control it.

He had skipped glee that day, having avoided pretty much everyone since the Andrew incident, and instead had drove around for 40 minutes before finally deciding it was best if he came home and waited for Cooper without wasting all his money on fuel. But the silence of his perfect house just added to the desperation building up inside of him. The wood polished oak grandfather clock ticked noisily in the hall and even when he had blasted Lady GaGa to an unhealthy volume the buzzing of panic in his ears wouldn't go away.

The sound of the front door clicking shut bought him to his senses slightly and he turned his music down. His parents catching him playing anything that was pop _and _anywhere near the top 40 would not result in favourable treatment. He sat down slowly on the edge of his bed, playing lightly with the quilt, waiting for the familiar tapping of feet on the wooden stairs and up to his door, telling him it was time to go.

However instead came the odd croak of his elderly next door neighbour.

"Deary? Are you up there? Blaine?" She had a slow way of speaking, surprisingly slow for a 67 year old, yet it still gave him some comfort. There was a warmth to it, and an honesty that you could only get with someone who has experienced so much of the world that they could never judge you, no matter what the circumstances were.

"Mrs Frobisher?"

"Yes dear, it's me. Can you come down?" He clicked off the CD player and grabbed his phone, thundering down the stairs.

"What's the matter, are you okay?" She smiled as he looked her over, a look of worry on his face.

"I'm fine dear, but Cooper got caught up with something so I'm here to take you to your session."

Blaine's face fell. "Right." He shuffled a bit on the spot, staring at his feet. He hadn't wanted Mrs Frobisher to know. He hadn't wanted anyone but his parents to know.

"Hey." She reached out to grab his hand. "Don't listen to what they say." He glanced up, surprised. Was he hearing her right, or just misunderstanding.

"I…" He really didn't know what to say.

"Come on, get through this one and we'll do something nice at the weekend. " Blaine just stared at her, open mouthed, so she continued. "Deary you have the right to be anyone you want to be, don't let them take that away feom you, you're a gorgeous boy and you don't need to change, OK?" She nodded at him and slowly turned round, shuffling to the front door.

Blaine followed numbly. He had always assumed his elderly neighbour agreed with the views of his parents, but just had been too old to remember, or to actually voice her opinions or _something. _He had never in a million years expected her to support him. But, she had. She had. Blaine's face broke into the his first smile in over a week. She had. Someone cares.

Someone cares.

* * *

Most of the car ride was spent in silence; Mrs Frobisher was not one for music since her hearing had deteriorated over the past few years, but Blaine didn't mind it. It was a comforting silence, and mixed with the slightly sweet yet musty air of the car he felt safe. And protected. Only slight nausea interrupting as they pulled up to the counselling centre.

"There you go dear, just walk in and tell them your name, I think they're expecting you, I'll be back in an hour." She gave his arm a squeeze as he exited the car.

"Thank yo-" He suddenly remembered, but the door was already closed and she was about to drive away, oblivious to his words. He turned to face the large brick building in front of him, it seemed friendly enough, but the gleaming, almost painfully, white walls inside told you otherwise. As he stepped through the swivel doors a chill overcame him, this is where true evil resided. He laughed out loud, gaining an odd look from the receptionist. Had he seriously just thought that? Really? Was his mind that freaked out that he thought the people who worked here were 'evil'?

Get a grip Blaine.

But as he stepped down the white corridor, through a white door into a carpeted hall it became harder and harder to 'get a grip'. In fact, he felt like that was the problem. Everything was slipping away from him, the white sucking out all his energy. He tried to focus his mind, hold on to the walls but they were too light, too shiny for anything but reflection. His thoughts bouncing back at him, magnified ten times as much. He focused on his breathing. In, out. Get a grip. In, out. Knock on the door. In, out. Get a grip. In, out…

* * *

"Hello Mr Anderson." It was a man. About forty, and looking extremely stereotypical for the job he was about to be paid to do.

"Hello." Blaine stood stiffly, not knowing whether he should sit down, not knowing if he really wanted to.

"Take a seat."

"Erm, right, OK." The leather armchair reminded him of the one they had at home. The room was dark, all red and an odd green, a huge contrast to the clinical whiteness of outside. There was an old clock in the corner and a painting above the unused fireplace, probably of some distinguished person, but Blaine didn't recognise them.

"I assume you know why you're here." The man's tone wasn't harsh, wasn't friendly, wasn't anything. Blaine didn't know how to react, what did he say, will it be used against him? He held back another snort. So now he thought he was in court, that's great Blaine, you carry on exaggerating this for all it's worth.

"Kind of." He shifted uncomfortably in his chair whilst the man wrote something in his notepad before clearing his throat loudly.

"Well Blaine, first things first, I'm doctor Phill, I'm not here to make you feel bad or upset, just to make you better. OK?" Blaine didn't know what to say, because he felt that making him upset came hand in hand with trying to make 'him better', and there was no way one could be accomplished without the other.

"I don't need to get better. I'm fine." If he had to endure hours of this every week he might as well make it difficult for _'Phill'._

"Right. I see we have a long way to go, but that's OK, it's not an easy road, but you can be fixed."

"I don't need to be fixed!" He was on the edge of his seat, almost yelling. Why did such a simple comment make him react so badly so quickly. He prised himself on being a calm person, good natured. Doctor Phill didn't answer, just scribbled something else into his notebook. "I don't!"

"OK. Let's talk about when you first think you contracted the illness…"

_And so it went on. _On and on and on. Doctor Phill asking him questions, trying in every way possible to convince him he was wrong, disgusting, diseased. Blaine trying to fight back, starting off disagreeing with everything, shouting, fighting with all he was worth, and then slowly getting tired, giving in slightly, just not bothering to answer, letting the words wash over him.

* * *

The ride back with Mrs Frobisher was as silent as the one there, except this one wasn't comfortable. Blaine had blatantly ignored her as he stormed out the counselling centre, but she seemed to understand, giving him a quick half-hug as he exited the car. He tried to smile back, but his muscles didn't seem to be working properly. He entered the house expecting to find it empty but his parents were waiting in the hallway, expecting looks plastered on their faces. He glared at them coldly.

"Hey Blaine-o." Blaine looked up to find his older brother standing next to him, his arm slightly squeezing his shoulder. "How'd your session go?"

"Fucking amazing." He wrenched himself out of Coopers grasp and forced himself up the stairs, slamming his bedroom door with a bang. So his brother was finally home, and still as up himself as ever. Of course, he'd been so engrossed in everything else recently that he had forgotten how utterly single minded Cooper was. He really didn't get it. How much this hurt Blaine, how utterly hopeless and confused it made him feel, how he felt on the urge of giving up. No, Cooper was great, but great for having fun with, for play fighting with, for being a normal younger brother with. He was not good for problems or advice, or understanding unless you spelt it out to him, and slowly.

"Blaine?" He walked over to his bed, sitting on the edge stiffly, trying to block out everyone.

"Go away."

"Blaine, I get it."

"What?" That surprised him. It was Cooper behind the door, right? It opened slowly, the slight creak of it's un-oiled hinges making Blaine turn his head.

"I think this sucks. Mum and dad shouldn't be doing it."

"Yeah, well they are, and you're letting them." He knew he was just trying to release all the pent of feelings that had gathered inside of him, that Cooper happened to be there and he was being irrational, but there was something about his words that made him think. Why didn't Cooper try and stick up for him. He didn't mind that Blaine was gay so why didn't he say something_, anything _to help him?

"Blaine, I can't, you know I can't!"

"Why, because you're too afraid of them thinking badly of you? Of not loving you? Because that happened years ago with me and trust me they won't want to loose another son. Especially if he's as _perfect _as you." His face was contorted in anger, in sadness, he didn't know which.

"Blaine, they do love you. They love us both." Cooper was closer now but Blaine stood up and walked away, tried to put as much space between them as possible.

"WELL THEY HAVE A FUNNY WAS OF SHOWING IT." His arms were flailing now as he screamed, trying to direct every last bit of hurt that had accumulated inside of him over the past hour, week, year, at his brother. "I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM AND I HATE YOU AN… AND JUST… get out." He calmed down, forced his face into one that was controlled, completely blank.

"Blaine,"

"Get out."

"Blaine, listen…"

"Now!"

"Blaine I'll talk to them, I'll-"

"I don't give a fuck, just leave." But Cooper didn't, that was another thing he wasn't any good at; listening to people.

"Mum will listen, she will, Dad… will take some persuading-"

"Cooper." Blaine's voice was low, his fists clenched as he tried to steady the shaking. "Go"

"But I'll manage, they can't do this, it's not right on you and they're wasting so much money on…"

Blaine was verging on hysteria. "JUST FUCKING LEAVE COOPER. LEAVE. LEAVE. I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU DO, I DON'T CARE ABOUT THE MONEY, IF.. I… I JUST DON'T. GO. GO. GO. Go…" He moved towards his brother who stood frozen in the middle of the room, eyes fixed on the shaking boy in front of him, eyes narrowed as he desperately tried to push him out the room, his breath coming out in hitched gasps. "C..C..Cooper." It was pleading this time. "Go."

And Cooper did. He left the small boy kneeling on his bedroom floor, with his eyes closed, his legs seemingly not able to take his weight any more, or maybe he just gave up, Cooper couldn't tell which. He left his angry brother, on the verge of tears, seemingly on the verge of a breakdown. He left, as asked, and he closed the door behind him.


	5. Quick note

Guys I am so so sorry I have not updated in such a long time. At first it was because I was completely stuck for ideas, and then I got so crazily busy I didn't have any time what so ever, but please be reassured when I say that I promise this isn't abandoned. I've written a few more chapters but they need some editing, and I have a plan that could potentially turn this into a longer story than what I was first planning.

I will try and update soon but I can't promise anything so I think it's best to really lower your expectation/forget about this story until it pops up in your email inbox.

Sorry once again, and also thank you so much for reviews/ favourites/ followers. You're all amazing and roll on season 4 and all blangst she carries!

(Also, regarding the Dr. Phill thing OH MY GOD, i googled it and the name sounded so right beforehand but then... urgh, this is the Andrew Jackson-president thing all over again. I really need to learn to research!)

Thanks again!


	6. Chapter 5

**Okay so this has taken way too long to be uploaded and to be quite honest with you it's hardly at the standard it should be considering the amount of time I've taken with it. Reading it back I feel like it seems a but rushed in places, or jumpy, or something. And hey, hands up who's guilty of switching character point of view in the middle of a scene? Err... *raises hand*. I know, I know, but I'm way too lazy to find a way of changing it because that takes effort, ya know? I hope it's still mildly enjoyable and I promise chapter 6 will be AMAZING. Hang in there- September 2029 here we come! **

**Thank you for reading/reviewing etc, you awesome awesome people. **

**ps- GLEE TOMORROW OHMYGODBLANGSTANDBLAINEANDKL AINEANDGUYSTOMORROWWELLNOACT UALLYFRIDAYBECAUSEILIVEINENG LANDBUTSTILLARGHH**

* * *

_Monday 28__th__ October._

"Blaine!"

"What?" It was a snarl, and it shocked even himself as he forcefully turned his head to face Kurt. "Finally decided to talk to me have we? Or is over ten grovelling voicemails and texts not enough for _His Royal Highness Kurt Hummell_."

"Blaine, I'm sorry." Blaine turned to look at Kurt properly for the first time in over a week, raising his eyebrows slightly.

It had been one of the hardest weeks of his life, not having Kurt to talk to. Mainly because every time they had tried to patch things up they always ended up arguing about _Andrew_, and then Blaine would go out of his way to not meet Kurt in the corridor; sit on the other side of the choir room in glee club. Kurt had stopped trying after a few days, clearly under the advice of Rachel or some of the other members to just let him be, but to Kurt that also seemed to mean ignoring his calls and texts when late on Saturday night Blaine had a change of heart and tried to grovel; with the resultant hour spent calling Kurt's voicemail repeatedly consisting of him getting more and more upset until he eventually gave up, falling back onto his bed with a heavy heart and tears welling up in his eyes.

His ribs still hurt from where Andrew had shoved him yesterday, taking full advantage of a deserted locker room. _'__Just like good old times, ay Blainey?__'_His head still hurt from the sleepless nights he'd been getting recently, what little dreams he did have plagued with nightmares. And his hands shook slightly. With anticipation? What? He wasn't sure.

Actually, he was rather surprised with himself, at how well he was coping. Practice makes prefect, he supposed, or maybe his irrational anger was the only thing keeping the desperation and terror away.

"I really am. I was being stupid." Blaine bought himself back to reality and realised Kurt was still talking.

"Really? And you couldn't think to come to that conclusion any sooner?

"I was mad because of how much you've been ignoring me recently… and about what you said about Andrew." The last sentence was added apprehensively. Kurt made to reach for Blaine's hands but he yanked them away. Kurt chose to ignore the gesture, instead continuing with the same expression frozen on his face."But it's fine, if you don't like him then I guess we'll just have to deal with it." He paused for a minute, unsure of how to continue in Blaine's silence. "Why though, Blaine?" It was said quietly, and it was a question Blaine was not ready to answer.

"Why what?" He growled instead, feigning ignorance and surprising himself at his angry tone. He missed Kurt, he really did. He knew he had been a complete asshole lately, so why was he now behaving like he hated everyone on the planet, Kurt most of all?

"Why do you hate him, you hardly know him yet you seem to be on a vengeance filled mission to make sure everyone dislikes him. He's really nice, and he's a really good singer and-"

"Oh just leave me alone Kurt."

"Blaine, no, wait…" And he stormed away for the second time, leaving Kurt spluttering indignantly in the middle of the quickly filling hallway .

Blaine seemed to be very good at that recently, running away from his problems.

* * *

_3.10pm Glee Club _

"I'd like to sing something if that's OK Mr Shue?" Blaine looked up sharply as Kurt adjusted his jacket and made his way to the front of the room. Was this going to be a public apology? A serenade? Because as much as Blaine was extremely angry and just downright hurt about how Kurt had failed to even try to understand what was wrong, he had to admit that would be very romantic. Nay, extremely romantic. He sat up straighter in his seat, already feeling his cheeks redden as Kurt made eye contact with him briefly, looking away with a small smile.

He was actually incredibly nervous. He had never been serenaded to before, not properly, not in front of lots of people. He fiddled with his bow tie. God he was getting hot. He was embarrassed, and Kurt hadn't even started singing yet.

His uncomfortable pleasure was suddenly numbed as Andrew slowly pushed his chair back and went to stand next to Kurt.

"Yeah, me and Kurt were going to sing a song. For Blaine." Andrew didn't look at anyone but Mr Shue, but as Blaine's mouth fell open he didn't miss that telltale smirk clearly meant for him.

"As you all know Blaine's been acting kinda weird lately, so me and Kurt were talking and we thought we'd show him how much we _do care _about him_, _in the hope it'll help him get over his little man period." A soft ripple of laughter whipped around the room and Blaine felt his face redden to an uncomfortable level. He crossed his arms defensively, willing himself to not get upset. This was just Andrew being his usual malicious self. Kurt had innocently gone along with it, not knowing, thinking it would make Blaine feel better. He had seen the look Kurt had given Andrew at the 'man period' joke, and it wasn't one of amusement. Blaine had to be the better person. He may not be able to stop the pushes and jibes he was getting in between classes, but he could take the moral high ground here. Go up there when they were finished and smile dapperly, kiss Kurt. A lot. Apologise for the ass he had been acting like this past week, smirk at Andrew and walk back to his seat proudly, his boyfriends fingers intertwined with his own.

The music started slowly. It was vaguely familiar, and not in the usual 'I've-heard-this-on-the-radio' way, it triggered a memory, something in back of his mind. Blaine shifted in his seat slightly, tying to place it.

"_I'll be your dream, I'll be your wish, I'll be your fantasy_

_I'll be your hope, I'll be your love be everything that you need."_

Blaine looked round the room. Everyone else seemed as confused as he was. Wasn't this meant to be a song that showed him how much they cared, cheered him up? This wasn't very uplifting.

"_I love you more with every breath truly madly deeply do." _

And why was Andrew singing him a love song? That was kind of weird.

"_I will be strong I will be faithful 'cause I'm counting on a new beginning_

_A reason for living. A deeper meaning. Yeah"_

Granted Kurt sounded brilliant. But even Mr Shuster was looking at them oddly. Andrews over the top swaying certainly was countering Kurt's stiffened, embarrassed posture, and that manic grin he was directing at Blaine's puzzled face really didn't fit the lyrics of the song…

"_I wanna stand with you on a mountain, I wanna bathe with you in the sea_

_I wanna lay like this forever, Until the sky falls down over me…"_

And then it hit him. Blaine remembered. Knew why Andrew had chosen this particular song. Why he seemed so happy as his eyes never moved from Blaine's,

Sadie Hawkins.

Final slow dance.

Josh and him intertwined, laughing, joking, being as romantic as two fourteen year can, minutes before… before…

"I have to, sorry… I'm-" Blaine tripped clumsily over Quinn's bag as he frantically tried to weave his way through the chairs.

"Blaine where are you-" Mr Schue called after him as he almost ran across the room.

"Blaine!?"

"Blaine what the hell dude?" The musicians stuttered to a holt, the final few notes following him softly, ringing out across the room .

"God, he really is on his period."

"No, shut up, something's obviously up."

"Blaine?"

He ignored them, head still buzzing as he carried on down the corridor. Tripping over his own feet slightly, stumbling in no direction at all. Where to go? Where… his mind was spinning. Where!? His vision was blurring. _Where? _Make a decision wher-

The bathroom.

And that's where he stayed for the remainder of the hour. Until he was sure everyone had gone home. Gripping the sink and splashing his face with water not dissimilar to that fatal day two weeks ago. Trying to steady his breath as he tried to wipe his mind of any memories. Focusing on the glint of the red paper towels reflecting in the dirty mirror. Not even caring that no-one had bothered to find out where he had gone.

* * *

It was gone half four before Blaine had trudged slowly out of the bathroom, face tingling slightly from the cold of the water. He hadn't expected anybody to wait for him, but as he pulled on his coat half-heartened and grabbed his bag from underneath the chair in the now deserted choir room, he couldn't stop the overwhelming feeling of loneliness that washed over him, almost as shocking as the water. He hadn't felt this low, this helpless, in years. And everything really was beginning to mirror his freshman year. Except now it seemed ten times worse. Because he's already felt what it was like to be truly happy? To wake up looking forward to go to school? Blaine wasn't sure. His brain wasn't even letting him think straight.

"_Shit."_ He brought his hand up to his head, a sharp pain shooting through his temples making him wince at the unexpected pain. Maybe splashing ice-cold water on his face for thirty minutes straight wasn't such a good idea after all.

There was slight cold wind whipping around the parking lot, and in normal circumstances Blaine would have been annoyed with Cooper for taking his car, making him wait for his dad to finish work, however he couldn't bring himself to care. A figure approached him, emerging from a side entrance in the school. Blaine groaned. Obviously Andrew would have waited for him. _Well at least that's someone. _He thought cynically. _There you go. Someone remembers you exist. _

"Hey fag, why the long face? Didn't you like our little duet?"

"Andrew go… go away." Blaine turned away, crossing his arms at the same time. The retort was mumbled. He was tired, and it was starting to show.

"Storming out when someone's singing to you really isn't very nice, you know"

"Andrew I'm not in the mood."

"No?" The larger boy stepped closer, making Blaine shuffle away towards the wall. "I thought you might be after all the happy memories that song bought back. You know you and Josh w-"

"STOP." Blaine took another step back, his back hitting the rough wall of the school. The shout bouncing across the car park. He took in a gulp of air, trying to steady his breathing. He was being ridiculous, he was stronger than this. Andrew knew how to play him, knew what to do to get a reaction out of him, and he was letting him do it. "Leave me alone, Andrew, please." He straightened his back, stepped away from the wall, tried to appear confident. Andrew scanned him amusingly.

"God Anderson, always the charmer! When are you going to realise your rich boy manners aren't going to get you anywhere." He stepped ever closer. Blaine tried to shift away but Andrew slammed him back into the wall, making Blaine gasp in pain as his right shoulder collided violently into the brickwork.

"You know I haven't seen you cry in a while, Blainey." Blaine tried to wriggle out of Andrew's grasp but his hold was too strong. He twisted his head to the side, trying to get away from the hot breath tickling his cheek. God this was so messed up. He shouldn't be here. Why was he letting someone do this to him. Was he really that goddamn weak and-

"Dad!" Blaine suddenly breathed a sigh of relief. Andrew twirled around quickly, dropping his hand and stepping away from Blaine, watching as the old, suited man walked briskly towards them.

"Oh hi Mr Anderson." Andrew quickly presented the perfect smile. The Mr- I'm-so-chamring-and-handsome-and-clever-and-deliciously-straight-don't-you-wish-you-had-me-for-a-son smile. Mr Anderson nodded in acknowledgement. Blaine feel sick.

"I was just telling Blaine that I have his calculus textbook, but I seem to have left it at home. Is it OK if I drop it round later?" Blaine's mouth dropped open in shock. Andrew Jackson. At his home. Knowing where he lived.

_Say no, dad. Please, do one thing for me , I__'__ll never ask anything of you again, you don__'__t have to love me, you don__'__t have to accept my sexuality, just, please, say no._

"Sure. Any time you want." Blaine's heart sank. He felt oddly disappointed in his father, like he should have known something was wrong, known how much pain and suffering this boy had caused his son.

"It's OK, dad, he can just bring it in tomorrow, I don't need it." He reached out subconsciously, almost as if he was a toddler and tugging on his fathers coat was going to change his mind, persuade him to buy him an ice-cream or a new toy.

"Blaine! Don't be so ungrateful. That's very kind of you, erm…"

"Andrew."

"Andrew." He turned to face his son. "You should really be more careful, leaving your things carelessly about. They cost money, Blaine." And it was all Blaine could do not to scream at the top of his voice as he watched his dad happily exchange their address with his former bully. Watch as Andrew Jackson walked away happily, a strange, extremely scary smirk woven into his lips.

"He seems nice. Are you friends?" Blaine shot his father a sceptic look as he turned away from watching Andrew round a corner.

"No, we're not. He's not as nice as you think."

"Why can't you be more like that, Blaine." Blaine stopped suddenly, his father not realising at first before glancing to his side and noticing his son was five metres behind him. In honesty, Blaine had been expecting something like this, his father to take an instant like to the wonderfully straight charming Andrew, and maybe it was only because he was getting fed up with Blaine's behaviour recently, or had a bad day at work and his stress was getting transformed into frustration directed at his son…. But he hadn't expected him to straight out say how much he wanted Blaine to be like someone else, how unhappy he was with the person now standing next to him. He thought they'd been closer than that. At least had something between them. Turns out he was wrong about that too.

"What?" So now his dad was acting clueless.

"Forget it." And he stormed past, yanking the car door open with as much force as possible and flinging himself inside. His dad reached him about thirty seconds later.

"You need to sort your attitude out young man." He shot Blaine a disapproving look as he slotted his keys into the ignition. Blaine ignored him, continuing to stare determinedly out the window.

"For god's sake Blaine stop sulking. What I mean is that I'm sick of this moody persona you seem to be embracing recently. That boy was extremely polite and helpful, it would do you some good to take a leaf out of his book."

Blaine still didn't answer, choosing to stare out the clouding window, speckled with spots of rain. It was always like this. Blaine being blamed for things his parents never took the chance to understand.

'It's not my attitude that's the problem, is it dad?'

He didn't get a reply.

* * *

They reached the counselling centre a few minutes late.

"Have a good time!"

"Thanks dad, _I will_." He'd pay for it later, the sarcasm, the lack of respect, but as he walked into the building as fast as he could ,he found himself caring less and less. What could his dad do to him, exactly? Not much worse then was going on at school, here, in his head, in his nightmares.

He entered Dr Phill's room with a lot more confidence than before, admittedly fuelled by an ongoing type of anger that seemed to be engulfing him over the last couple of days, but nonetheless it seemed to help, in a very twisted way, he supposed, but it helped.

The whiteness of the walls, the contrast of the old and the new, they grounded him this time.

"Hello Blaine, nice to see you again." The old man stood up as Blaine made his way to the fraying armchair.

"Hi. Nice to see you too." The audacity he had lessoned slightly but the sarcasm dripping off the greeting was clear. The other man seemed to choose to ignore it.

"Come, have a seat. I've been having a think, and after last week's session I thought we'd take a different approach."

"I can't wait."

"This week I think we should focus on memories. Your parents told me a bit about the events of your old school?"

"What?" Blaine forgot his bravado in an instance. He shifted forward in his chair slightly. He couldn't deal with this today. Not now. "No, I don't want to."

"We have to talk about these things if we're going to get any closer to curing you. I'm under the impression you took another boy to a dance, yes?" The man was staring at him intently now, rushing forward, not hesitating in approaching the subject roughly.

"No. No I don't want to talk about this." He leant forward, burying his face in his hands. He couldn't do this today. Any other day, maybe, but not this one. The last few hours had been such a haze, everything happening so quickly, jumping from one emotion to the next. He wasn't strong enough for this right now, it was something he needed to prepare to think about.

"And I am made to be aware that that decision resulted in you and your friend to be injured, or more specifically beaten up by a number of your classmates."

"Please… stop."

"Your choices caused this, Blaine." Blaine screwed his eyes shut as tightly as possible, as if that would block any sounds reaching his ears. "You caused not only yourself, but your friend to get hurt as well. Is tha-"

And suddenly it was too much. The memories he'd been trying to push down ever since that afternoon rapidly resurfaced. Broke through the outer layer of his mind and burst into a million Technicolor pieces right before his eyes, playing out in full HD…

"_That was the best night ever, Josh! Your dance moves were amazing I__…"__ He trailed off as the other boy leaned closer, his large green eyes almost hypnotising as his eyelashes brushed against Blaine__'__s forehead._

"_I had a great time too, Blaine.__"__ he whispered, not breaking eye contact with the boy in front of him. __"__Although unfortunately I can__'__t return that compliment about my dance moves.__"__ The taller boy laughed softly at the playful look of hurt Blaine directed at him._

"_You just ruined a beautiful moment.__"_

"_Well you know my timing.__"_

"_Yeah, it__'__s rubbish.__"_

"_That__'__s not very nice.__"_

"_Don__'__t even try to act offended, it__'__s a fact and you know it__"__ Blaine laughed as he leaned in further, his lips brushing softly against Josh__'__s. He felt a fleeting moment of panic as some type of insect fluttered across his stomach, but it was quickly replaced with a fuzzy feeling of joy as their mouths locked. _

"_HEY!" Blaine pulled back slightly, tensing, he recognised the voice echoing across the parking lot. _

"_Hey Blainey! Fancy finding you here.__"__ Blaine pushed Josh away frantically. _

"_Andrew.__"__ Blaine murmured sombrely. _

"_What?__"__ Josh turned round suddenly, a fleeting look of panic crossing his face. __"__Why is he__…"_

"_Josh come on.__"__ Josh turned round to face Blaine again. The small boy, although only in the year below him, looked at least 3 years younger. His eyes were now wide, his skin ghostly white, something hinting extreme panic in his voice. Josh reached for his hands, realising they were shaking.. _

"_Hey, Blaine. Blaine look at me. Remember what we said, before.__"__ The boy didn__'__t seem to be listening properly, his eyes kept flickering behind his shoulders, watching the fast approaching boy._

"_Josh we have to go. We have to-__"__ His voice was high pitched, at least three octaves higher than normal. Josh knew people bullied Blaine, had heard storied about the infamous Andrew, had almost seen Blaine cry after a few especially bad run-ins that Josh had turned up too late to stop. But he had never seen Blaine as panicked as he was now. _

"_Blaine we__'__re staying, they can__'__t do anything to us.__"_

"_Josh you don__'__t know Andrew.__"_

"_No, but I__'__ve heard you talk about him and you__'__re not giving into them, there__'__s two of us now. Have some courage, lets show him that he can't push us around.__"_

"_Hello boys. Lovely evening.__"__ Andrew was closer now, less than three metres away. _

"_Hello Jackson. It was, wasn't it.__"__ Josh stepped out in front of Blaine slightly, almost subconsciously trying to protect him from the blonde haired boy, Andrew ignored him._

"_You__'__re looking very nice tonight Blainey. Did you have a good time dancing with your girlfriend?__"__ Blaine didn__'__t answer, Josh felt him draw closer into his back. His stuttering breath tickling the back of his neck. _

"_Leave him alone.__"__ Josh eyes widened slightly as two more jocks stepped out from behind a car. _

"_Aah, look guys, Blainey needs his girlfriend to protect him. What__'__s wrong Blainers, too weak to protect yourself? You're probably just tired from all those boys you've been fucking, am I righ-__"__ It happened so fast. So quickly Blaine hardly understood what was going on until it was almost over One minute Josh was rushing at the boys, the next his arms were twisted round his back, a painful kick making his ribs flare up, a sickening crack echoing round the car park as his head made contact with the asphalt. _

"_NO!__"__ Blaine lurched forward, trying to stop the boys, help Josh, anything, but all he saw was Andrews galling smile and the sight of Josh__'__s blood pooling softly around his hair__…_

_Andrew turned to face him, a scary glint of madness in his eye. His telltale smirk slowly turning into his face as he swayed closer in an almost drunk like fashion _

"_Now Blainey, this is where the real fun begins."…_

"I want to go home." Blaine's eyes filled with tears, he tried to stand up but didn't quite make it.

"No, Blaine, you know how this works, you can't, not until the hour is up."

"I want to go home! You can't keep me here!" He was getting hysterical again, trying with all his might to get some blood flowing round his legs again so he could stand up. Why weren't they working?!

"Blaine…"

"NO! Let me go. I want to leave, I don't want to do this anymore." He pushed down with all the force he could muster on the arm rests, tried to reach the oak panelled door, reach the blinding white walls behind it.

"Okay, lets call your parents." That stopped him in his tracks.

"Why can't we call Cooper?" His voice was small, and tired.

"He's not your official parent or guardian."

"Please let me go home." He tried to beg, but one look at the man's raised eyebrows told him it wasn't going to work. This man was trained to break him, however they portrayed it, this man's job was to re-mould him, change the way he thought, and Blaine had to be honest, at this moment in time he was succeeding. And succeeding well.

"Why don't we talk about what just happened. You remembered about the dance, yes?" Blaine shook his head widely. He didn't want to think about it. He couldn't. His head was spinning.

"No. No, I don't want to. I want to go home." He knew he was acting like a child, like a baby, but he didn't care anymore. His breath was hitching, not enough oxygen was reaching his lungs. A soft hand on his shoulder made him flinch, recoil towards the door.

"Come on, just sit back down, I won't make you talk about anything else." Blaine looked up into the greying face Did he catch some compassion laced between those hardened eyes, something that resembled sympathy?

"I…"

"Come on." And he let himself be led to the plush chair, let himself be pushed into it. Let his eyes slowly close as he fell into a restless stupor for the remainder of the hour, a single tear track drying slowly on his cheek.

* * *

He was sure he should care his dad hadn't picked him up, sure he should care he had sent Mrs Frobisher again. But his mind was too clouded, his thoughts still spinning, his vision still slightly speckled with blood.

He trudged slowly through the door, hadn't even said goodbye when Mrs Frobisher had handed him over to his mother and gave him a concerned look. He didn't acknowledge them. He felt a bit dizzy.

"Hey! What's the matter?" Cooper went to grab his arm but Blaine shrugged it off.

"Blaine what's wrong?" His mother tried to replicate Cooper's actions but he clumsily sidestepped into his father, stepping on his toes.

"Blaine-what-" Cooper surveyed his younger brother properly, pausing for a minute.

"You know this is exactly how you were after Sadie Hawkins?" He said it slowly, carefully as if trying to fit together some sort of puzzle. "What's going on? Blainey? Please talk to me?" Cooper was begging now, trying to make eye contact with him. But Blaine still refused, instead turning to slowly trudge up the stairs.

"Oh no you don't kiddo." His father grabbed his forearm, somewhat roughly, Blaine would have noted, if he hadn't been too muddled to not to give a damn.

"What?!" Blaine tried to wriggle out of his grasp but it determinedly steered him towards the living room. "Dad let me go."

"You've been ignoring this family for weeks now, moping in your bedroom, and I'm not having any more of it." Blaine stared at him, struggling to bring himself to the present. In the corner of his eye, almost out of his vision, he could still sense those three shapes. If he breathed in too much he could still smell the stinging night air of that grotty car park. The soft sounds of the house where slowly being overcome by the sharp crack of…

"Dad, please." It came out louder than he was expecting. Loud and desperate. He wasn't even sure what he was asking. His father paused for a moment, looking over his son.

"Are you still sulking because of the counselling? That's for your own good, you-"

"Dad it's not and you fucking know it!" Blaine startled at Coopers raised voice. The red turning to white as the walls slowly returned to their normal colour. Cooper. Cooper's voice.

"Look at him, dad, it's like someone's sucked all the life out of him. How is this stupid _sexuality counselling _helping him?"

John Anderson looked in shock at his older son. This was new. As far as he could remember Cooper had never questioned his actions before, especially concerning Blaine. He could feel his temper rising.

"Oh, of course! I completely forgot that you've been raising kids for more than twenty years, how silly of me." Mr Anderson's mouth curled upwards in a sneer. "You don't even know what's good for yourself, Cooper! You can't even wash your own clothes!" Cooper's face reddened.

"No! But I know that whatever you're trying to do isn't going to work. He's gay and that's that, you're the only one in this family kidding yourself that he's going to change!"

"I know what's best for my son!"

"If you even bother to take one look at him it's clear that you don't" Blaine shuffled back slightly. His mind was too foggy to be involved in this argument. He didn't want to be the cause of the downfall of his brothers and fathers relationship as well as everything else, blamed and hated for even more things. But the way Cooper was looking at his father, and his father looking at him, it seemed this whole thing was definitely going that way. He shuffled back half a step further as his father turned to him fully, the anger still etched upon every line on his face.

"Your being awfully quiet Blaine, what's your opinion on all this?" Mr Anderson watched as his younger son turned to face him, large amber eyes staring in that pitiful manner that always allowed him to get his way, even when he was a kid and had just done something extremely naughty. He watched as Blaine opened his mouth a few times unable to speak, then clear his throat, looked his father in the eyes and started again.

But Blaine's reply was cut off by a sharp knock at the door.


End file.
